


Unravel Me

by xSyntheticSensation



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cuckolding, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, I'm not sure how to tag this, Multi, Shameless Smut, Smut, Sort Of, Threesome - F/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:34:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29537589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xSyntheticSensation/pseuds/xSyntheticSensation
Summary: Modern!AU Michael shares his girl with his best friend.
Relationships: Isaiah Jesus/Original Female Character(s), Isaiah Jesus/Reader, Michael Gray/Original Female Character(s), Michael Gray/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	Unravel Me

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't set in the FAIY universe, but it's also not _not_ in the FAIY universe.  
> I present to you, my extremely self-indulgent masterpiece. Enjoy. :)

A threesome is every man’s dream. Isn’t it? For a dude who likes women, the thought of not one, but _two_ women wanting to fuck you is a fantasy that many men do not get to live. So when the opportunity presents itself, you take what you can get, right?

At least, that’s the case for Isiah Jesus. He’s a local celebrity, with no issue of bedding a woman when he wants, but even for him, the concept of a threesome is foreign.

And then there’s _her._ This beautiful woman, with a body sculpted by God himself; soft, plump, kissable lips; eyes that would engulf you alive if you weren’t paying attention; soft skin for miles; and, rumor has it, the world’s tightest pussy. And guess what? She wants to fuck _him_.

The problem is, she’s his best friend’s girl. It’s not the age-old story of falling in love with the girl he can’t have, but rather, the modern-day twist of how he fucked his best friend’s girl — while he watched. So, maybe it wasn’t a _true_ threesome, per se, but still, the sentiment was there. 

It started as a joke. A drunken night with the boys, tossing stories around and goofing off over a round of beer. 

“Dude, would you ever have a threesome?”

Of course, they’d be stupid not to find her attractive; that much was clear, and it was a no-brainer. The more obvious issue was the lines that would be blurred by taking that step. But it was a hypothetical question, right? In that case, he’d be stupid not to accept.

But somewhere along the way, the hypothetical morphed into a reality. A few comments here, a furtive glance there. It happened so gradually, so naturally, that he didn’t realize it was happening until one day the plan had been solidified. And at some point along that journey, he subconsciously took the deep dive into desperately wanting to fuck his best friend’s girl.

That’s how he wound up standing in the house that they shared, at the threshold to their bedroom, teetering on the line of no return. ‘Nervous’ isn’t the word he’d use to describe what he is feeling, but rather, ‘timid’; he doesn’t know what to expect, and further, he doesn’t know how this will change his relationship with both of the people in the next room. 

Steeling himself, Isiah reminds himself that he and Michael have been through just about everything (well, except a threesome — _is that what this is considered?_ ), and they are all consenting adults who can handle a shift in dynamic. Everyone is on the same page, they’ve all discussed the limits and boundaries, and if anyone can smoothly handle a transition like this with grace and class, it’s her. 

He steps into the bedroom, a room he’s been in only once before when getting a tour of their new place. Since then, an invisible barrier of respect prevents visitors from entering; it is a private, sacred room, saved for the two of them and their intimate moments. But now, he has an invitation, and the room he stands in has a whole new feeling to it, as if it knows what is about to happen inside its walls.

She’s wearing one of Michael’s fine dress shirts, the normally crisp white material softened a bit under her wear; only the middle buttons are clasped, leaving plenty of her bare chest exposed (not enough, Isiah notes, to see more than just an overly tantalizing view of her cleavage), along with her bare legs. He briefly wonders if she is even wearing panties, the material falling just past the curve of her ass, covering her modesty if she was truly nude underneath.

Michael gestures at the luxurious lounge chair next to his, upholstered in a rich-looking gray material. Isiah takes the hint, sitting down and making himself comfortable. His friend offers him a glass of wine from the opened bottle on the table, and he accepts graciously, appreciative of the slight comfort that a liquid blanket provides. 

He glances tentatively at her, biting her lip as Michael pats his own leg for her to perch on. She does so and nestles into him, his hand caressing the smooth skin of her thigh as he brings his mouth to her ear.

“Do you want this, angel?” he murmurs, and Isiah feels like he shouldn’t be here for this conversation, but somehow he knows that Michael’s instruction to sit isn’t optional.

To Isiah’s relief, she nods. Michael brings a hand to her jaw, nudging with a crooked index finger for her to face him, and she does. He presses a chaste kiss to her lips, then asks against them, “Are you sure?”

Her eyes lock with Isiah’s, as she nods, certain of herself. “Yes.”

“Mmm,” is Michael’s reply. “Good girl. Have you been thinking about him?”

She nods again, and Isiah is positive he might faint. He swallows thickly, the tension suddenly making the temperature in the room sweltering hot; the wine probably doesn’t help, but neither does the energy she exudes. He has always found her to be extremely attractive, but the way that she sits mere inches from him, with only a thin layer of white cotton between him and her naked body, wanting _him,_ has him yearning to touch her in ways he hasn’t felt before. 

“What about him, babygirl?”

The ability to speak seems to have left her, but she knows he is expecting an answer. She clears her throat, then whispers, “His hands.”

“His hands?”

“Mmhmm.”

“What else?”

She swallows again, tongue darting out to wet her lips as she contemplates the question. “His lips.”

The body part in question has suddenly gone dry, and Isiah feels the need to mimic her actions, wetting his own lips as he imagines them on her and the way that her soft skin will feel beneath them.

“Mmm,” Michael says again, slowly. “What else?”

Her eyes maintain with Zay’s for a moment before he watches them slide slowly down his body to, unmistakably, his crotch. He gulps, brain fleetingly wondering exactly what _thoughts_ she had had about that particular area of his body.

“His cock.”

“His cock, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“You want to see it? Taste it? Sit on it?”

She smiles at his inquiry, imagining each as he poses each question. Isiah notices the slight movement of her thighs, and realizes that she is rubbing them together. Michael is drawing out her torture, and she is _loving_ it. 

Of course, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t loving it, too.

“Hmm, in due time, my love,” Michael says softly before turning to address his friend. “The safe word is ‘octopus’. You good?”

Isiah opens his mouth to answer, the words not coming out; his throat is dry, and his voice falters. He coughs, “Y- yeah. Yeah. Yes.”

Michael holds eye contact with him for a moment, as if to read into his mind and give him the opportunity to say no if he still wants; Isiah doesn’t take it. At this point, he’s thought about it so much, he’d be thoroughly disappointed if it _didn’t_ happen, even though nothing _has_ happened yet.

Once Michael has determined that all parties have thoroughly approved of the arrangement, he gently nudges the girl in his lap in Zay’s direction. 

“Why don’t you give him a lap dance, baby? Show him how you dance for me?” 

Shyly, she glances at Zay, whose steady breath doesn’t betray the rapid beating of his heart and the jump of his cock at the thought of what was to cum. Er, come.

She is filled with an unusual combination of confidence and nerves; she’s always been comfortable around Zay, but unfamiliar with this new dynamic that has been introduced in their relationship. Of course, it was something that her and Michael had discussed at length, but now that it was _actually_ happening, her assurance wavers in the newness of their situation.

Michael’s burning gaze fuels her desire, imploring her to continue and to follow her instinct.

Biting her lip, she moves to stand between the legs Isiah has leisurely spread, making room for her however she chooses to move. Next to her, Michael quietly hooks his phone up to the speaker, selecting a song with a steady, slow beat to finish out the mood in the room.

Her eyes flutter closed, absorbing the heat from both Isiah and the bass of the song Michael has chosen, allowing it to flood her system. Slowly, her hips begin to sway, and Isiah’s eyes latch on to the movement, waiting patiently and resisting the urge to beg for more.

A fingertip lightly draws a thin line up the muscles of his arm, tightening under the touch that leaves fire in its wake; she continues the line, moving from his flesh to her own, drawing a line down the sensitive skin of her chest that erupts with goosebumps as her nail drags across it. Her other hand joins her first, pressing to her hips, then up her sides, moving to cup her own breasts through the thin shirt she wears, hardly covering her modesty, but covering _just_ enough that Isiah is tempted to drag the offending garment off her body.

He is on fire, and she has hardly touched him. 

Michael watches in amusement as she brings her scorching touch to Isiah’s thighs, feeling the well-defined muscle beneath her fingertips, moving her body between them before she turns around, bending slightly as she does. Isiah bites back the groan that tries to escape his throat at the sight of her barely-covered ass, and she takes it as a sign to keep going.

Slowly, she lowers herself until she is mere centimeters from his lap, his cock practically jumping out of his pants in an attempt to touch her. Giving her hips a shake, he watches the flesh of her ass jiggle and bites his own knuckle to prevent himself from reaching out to her; though no one has spoken it aloud, somehow he knows he isn’t supposed to touch yet. _Yet._

Her hips continue to sway sensually to the beat, just above where he wants her, and she feels like she is melting beneath the steady gaze of both Michael and Isiah. 

When she finally lowers her hips to press her ass against his groin, the moan that leaves Isiah’s throat is, thankfully, masked by the one that leaves her own. She settles into her place in his lap, the cheeks of her ass nestled snug between his thighs. 

With deadly precision, she begins to roll her hips to the beat, grinding in slow circles. Michael’s eyes are like a hawk’s, observing intently, enjoying the sight of his beautiful woman putting on a show for his best friend. 

Side to side, up and down, figure eights. She works her ass in a practiced rhythm, pressing herself into his lap, allowing her hips to lead the way. Isiah is positively sweating, swallowing thickly as he watches, mesmerized by the sway in her waist and the weight of her ass on his groin.

“Michael, he’s getting hard,” she whispers demurely, eyes trailing up to lock with her lover’s. He smirks, and the two of them communicate silently as if she isn’t sitting nearly naked on his best friend’s cock. 

“Yeah? What are you gonna do about that, angel?” he asks, his voice sticky sweet and patronizing, though they both know that he isn’t _really_ asking; he’s telling.

She bites her lip submissively, his unspoken command hanging in the air. As the song melds into another, she turns around, eyes meeting Isiah’s for the first time since they touched so intimately. His pupils have dilated, eyes watching her hungrily and waiting for her next move.

Her legs shift so she can straddle his waist, sitting herself on his lap. The heat from his body connects with hers as she presses against his muscular torso, and the electricity between their lips is practically palatable. 

Isiah holds his breath, maintaining her gaze as she lets her arms wrap around his neck, pushing herself forward even further to press her breasts against his chest. His hands instinctively move to her hips, almost tentatively resting against them as he feels that the unspoken ‘no touching’ rule has been lifted as silently as it was placed. 

The air is thick, and the world has stopped spinning as they look at one another, adjusting to the feel of the other underneath their fingertips, lips inches from the other’s. Michael watches with bated breath, curious to see who might break the moment first. 

Hours — or maybe just moments — pass, and Isiah breaks the silence, pushing himself forward to capture her lips. She gasps at the feeling of his mouth against hers, and he kisses her forcefully, hands keeping her pressed against his body. 

His tongue has a mind of its own, sliding indolently along her bottom lip before slipping its way into her mouth. She revels in the taste of him, different from Michael, but still agreeable, and her hands slide up to the back of his head, fingers curling into his hair.

The groan that Isiah lets out is lost in her mouth as she rolls her hips, grinding herself onto his lap. His erection, now fully present, sits at the perfect place to rub against her clit, and she finds herself unable to stop, nudging continually at the bundle of nerves. She can’t help the elongated sigh that she releases as his mouth moves to her neck, lips gliding along the sensitive skin.

Isiah’s sucking a mark into her neck, briefly wondering if Michael will have an issue with an outward sign of their affair. When he hears no objection, he continues his assault, moving his mouth along her collarbone when she tosses her head back.

Distantly, she hears the voice of her lover interrupting the haze that’s clouded over her from kissing Isiah. “You gonna suck his cock now, angel?”

She bites her lip, pulling away to look at Isiah as if to gauge his interest. He wants to encourage her, wants to do everything in his power to make sure she doesn’t stop, so he whispers, “Can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about it. Your lips on my cock.”

It’s worked, and Michael doesn’t bother to hide the smirk on his face. He might be sharing, but she is _his_ girl, and the knowledge that other men want her just as badly drives him absolutely _crazy_.

Slinking off of Isiah’s lap, she slips to her knees, gazing up at him in the way that she knows Michael likes. Isiah’s breath is caught in his throat yet again as he regards her, both of them silently waiting for Michael’s instruction.

“Go on, babygirl,” comes the soft command from her side. “You know what to do.”

Isiah watches her eyes drag down his body and to the prominent bulge in his lap, her small hands coming up to cup him through the material of his jeans. He grunts lowly when she gives him a light squeeze, smiling at him as she leans forward to lick a thick stripe against the denim of his bottoms. Her hands drift to his sides, his hips lifting slightly as she tugs the material down his legs, his length springing free at last. 

He is slightly thinner but longer than what she is used to, and her eyes are captivated by the sight of him as she slowly curls her fingers around the shaft, dragging up to feel him in her hand. Isiah groans, and her eyes flick to his as if she remembers that she is pleasuring _him_ and not just observing the pretty cock in front of her.

She pumps him languidly, once, twice, before she presses a soft kiss to the underside, lips brushing the soft flesh. His bottom lip is sucked between his teeth, eyes squeezing shut briefly at the sensation. 

Slowly, she works her way up to the tip, kissing leisurely, before she takes him between her lips as she locks eyes with him. The salty sweet taste of him drips onto her tongue, and she savors it, tongue swirling around the head.

Isiah gasps as she takes more of him into her mouth, engulfing him in the hot, wet warmth. He’s heard from Michael how good she is with her mouth, but _damn_ if he didn’t imagine it being _this_ good. 

Next to them, Michael is leisurely palming himself as he watches the scene in front of him unfold. Watching his best friend’s dick disappear into his girl’s mouth is something he didn’t realize he’d find so erotic, but he’s found himself painfully hard already.

“Show him how far you can take his cock down your throat, baby,” he murmurs lowly, drinking in the sight of her between Isiah’s legs. “Show him what made me fall in love with you.”

She whimpers at the instruction, the gentle yet very direct command causing a deep throb between her own legs. Licking her lips, she obeys, pressing forward to slowly lower herself onto Isiah’s length, earning a choked cry from him as he feels himself hit the back of her throat. 

Holding her position, Isiah sucks in a breath at the sight of her lips pressed against his pelvis, completely sheathed within the cavern of her mouth. _Jesus_ , this was better than he ever could have dreamed. 

She releases her hold on him when her eyes begin to water, and she sputters for breath, a thick string of saliva keeping her lips connected to his length. Her hands brace themselves against his thick thighs, mouth moving back to repeat the movement, driving him slowly to madness. He honestly didn’t know how he was going to manage fucking her, considering he felt about five seconds from blowing his load.

Somehow, by the grace of some higher power, he manages to hold on as she works him expertly, her wicked tongue and evil hands maneuvering their way around his member. He feels both intense disappointment and relief when he hears Michael clear his throat, signaling her to halt. She instantly obeys.

“If you keep doing that, he’s not going to be able to fuck you,” he chuckles, sympathizing with his best friend; Lord knows he had been on the receiving end of her mastery more than enough to know what Isiah was experiencing. And _damn_ if he didn’t want to watch her get fucked.

She pulls her mouth off of him, dropping her hands to her lap as she looks up innocently at her partner, as if she wasn’t just sucking the soul right out of him. Her lips are glistening with the combination of saliva and his pre-cum, and her pupils have enlarged, the irises shrinking to only reveal a tiny sliver of color.

Michael watches the heave of her chest, intrigued by the way her eyes regard Isiah; not predatory, but keen and _hungry_.

“Do you like that, sweetheart?” he asks. “You like sucking his cock?”

Nodding, she turns to look at Michael, feeling a strong wave of satisfaction at the very clear tent in his boxer briefs. As much as she enjoys Isiah, she is ultimately driven by Michael and his desires; if he wasn’t pleasured, then she didn’t want it. 

“Are you wet?” he probes, and Isiah’s eyes snap to her to gauge her reaction, desperate to know and for the answer to be affirmative.

She nods again, and Michael’s eyebrow quirks lazily. He doesn’t have to speak for her to know that he expects more than that, and she clears her throat before speaking softly for the first time in what feels like hours, “Yes.”

“Yeah? Show him.”

Isiah’s breath catches in his throat, watching her every movement. Her eyes lock back with his as she slowly removes the button up she is wearing, finally, _finally_ revealing the tits he’s longed to see from the first day he met her. He takes her in appreciatively, doing his best not to stare, his tongue itching to connect with the nipples that have hardened from their lack of coverage. 

Torn between what to look at, thinking distantly to himself that he could stare at her tits forever, he opts to follow her hand as it disappears beneath the lace of her panties. She keeps steady eye contact with him as she lets out a soft sigh as he imagines her fingers brushing her core; from where she is kneeling between his legs, the view is blocked. 

Her fingers retreat from between her thighs as she brings them to her mouth, and he lets out a whimper as she takes two between her lips, sucking her essence off her fingertips. The moan that leaves her goes straight to his cock, twitching lightly, as if it remembers the treatment she had just given him with her mouth. Sending a smirk his way, her fingers return to her core before he finds them pushing their way past his lips and into his mouth. Instinctively, his tongue sucks on her digits, savoring his first taste of her sweetness.

“That’s a good girl,” comes Michael’s voice, and Isiah is hurtled back to reality, lost in the seduction of his best friend’s girl.

“Michael, can I fuck him now?” she speaks, tone pleading, as she looks to her man.

He smirks, enjoying the desperation in her voice. He wasn’t sure how she would respond to Isiah, but he is more than pleased at her eagerness to participate, and even more so that she seems to be thoroughly enjoying herself, thriving under his command. Contemplating the situation, his calculating eyes trail over her, then at his mate, and he chuckles lowly before saying, “Not yet, angel.”

She pouts, and Isiah feels another twitch at her eagerness to have him inside of her. He wants to tell her that he wants it, too; he’s desperate for it, and if it weren’t for Michael he would have buried himself inside of her already. 

Fortunately, that idea doesn’t seem it’s too far away with Michael’s next instruction: “Come on, baby, bend over and show Zay that gorgeous cunt of yours.”

She is obedient, padding over to the bed and sending a sultry glance over her shoulder to Isiah before tucking her thumbs into the lace of her panties, pushing them slowly down her legs. He stares at the discarded material on the floor for a brief moment before his eyes shoot up to take in her full, bare, and exquisite behind. Fully naked now, he thinks that he could get lost in the smooth skin that goes for miles over all of the curves of her body, the delectable trail of her spine offering a gorgeous display of femininity.

She is simply divine, and Isiah wants to take his time to run his tongue along every inch of skin that she flaunts under his watchful eye.

Both of the men groan slightly as she takes her time to lean forward on the mattress, stretching her arms in front of her to rest; she can feel their heated gaze on her most sensitive spot, the cool air hitting the moistness of her lower lips. Michael watches his best friend take in the sight of her pretty pussy, feeling a sense of pride at the way he swallows, then licks his lips. Like the little tease she is, she gives her hips a shake and Michael is slightly surprised that there isn’t a string of drool from his best friend’s mouth.

Isiah looks at Michael, his eyes asking for permission that he knows he has; still, it feels right to seek confirmation for what he so desperately wants. Without a word, Michael nods, and his friend drops to his knees behind her, coming face to face with her bare core for the first time.

She pauses, feeling the warmth of his breath against the place where her ass meets her thigh, and Isiah licks his lips in anticipation.

“Taste her, Zay.”

He doesn’t need any more instruction, diving forward to press his lips against her, tongue immediately darting out to taste her. Releasing a throaty sigh at the sensation, the warmth of his mouth a more than pleasant contrast to the coolness of the air, her eyes close and she grips the blanket in front of her.

Isiah has had his fair share of practice in the art of eating pussy, and it is apparent he knows his way around the female genitalia; he expertly licks his way around her core, tasting the tanginess on his tongue. His hands trail heat up the back of her legs before resting on her ass, pulling the globes apart slightly for better access to her slit.

“Fuck, Zay,” is the moan that she lets out. Michael’s eyes greedily flicker from her face to Isiah’s buried in her core, unsure of what he wants to watch more. While he gets the unique pleasure of creating his own porno, he will not get the privilege of rewatching the scene outside of his own memory — but what a memory it will be.

Isiah laps at her entrance, alternating between broad licks and light suction, occasionally thrusting his tongue straight inside of her. The combination is downright sinful, and she can feel the heat rising in her belly. One of her hands draws behind her, fingers messily carding into his hair, holding him in place, telling him _right there_ , _don’t stop._

Michael sits silently, suspensefully, watching Isiah eat his way to her heart. He knows from the way her hips are rolling against his face that she is approaching her peak, her moans lofting higher.

“Zay, Zay —“ 

“Yeah, let go,” he mumbles against her slit, quickly returning to his actions to work her over the edge. 

And then she’s coming, crying out as he core contracts around his tongue, the waves washing over her as Isiah greedily laps up every drop she gives him. He lets her ride it out before she slumps forward, panting heavily. 

Sitting back on his heels, Isiah licks her orgasm off of his lips, feeling extremely smug at the way her inner thigh twitches slightly. He’s certain that the sound of her coming would be engrained into his memory forever; he hopes he’ll have the pleasure to hear it — and hopefully feel it — again. 

Once she catches her breath, she moves to sit on the bed, looking expectantly at Michael, whose eyes are so dark she almost doesn’t recognize him.

“You gonna let him fuck you now, baby?”

“Yes,” she breathes, eyes moving between Michael’s and Isiah’s.

“You gonna ask him nicely?”

Her sights turn to Isiah, biting her lip as she gazes up at him innocently. “Please, Zay, want you to fuck me.”

It takes everything in him not to scream out a resounding, ‘I will’, instead managing to smoothly say, “Yeah?”

“Please,” she repeats, watching as Michael retrieves and hands him a condom.

Isiah accepts the foil, patting the bed beside him with a smirk as he swiftly removes the t-shirt he sports and shucks the jeans fully off his legs. She follows, resuming her original position, leaning forward over the mattress, perking her ass out eagerly. Michael watches with a grin, familiar with her teasing antics. 

“Fuck,” Isiah grunts out, hand reaching out to grip the globe in his palm, taking the opportunity to feel it in his hand. His other hand reaches for his cock, pumping himself a few short times before slipping the latex over his length. He teases her entrance with the tip, listening to her whine.

Michael rises from his seat, approaching her and leaning down to press a kiss to her temple.

“Look so pretty bent over like this,” he mutters, just loud enough for Isiah to hear.

“You think so?” she teases, leaning onto her hands to press a kiss against his lips. She is excited about the idea of Michael watching more closely, and she feels another throb between her legs. 

His response is a simple hum, and then she feels him nudge her arm, letting out a small “oof” as he knocks her elbows from under her so that her chest rests against the bed cover, forcing her hips out further.

“All the way down, baby girl. Let him fuck you properly.”

“Fuuuuck,” Zay repeats, drawing out the ‘u’ in the word, and she whimpers. With her back arched and ass up, she is sure that she presents quite the view for her partner, and Isiah’s hand grazes down the curve of her spine appreciatively.

Michael returns to his seat, content to sit on the sidelines and watch the show. He’s temporarily passed the control to Isiah, who has resumed his teasing, probing gently at her core, enough to have her whining in anticipation.

“Zay, please,” she pleads breathlessly, pushing her hips backward in an attempt to feel more friction.

Isiah is helpless to her demands, finally succumbing to the temptation of burying himself inside of her heat. 

Her mouth falls open in a silent scream as he pushes in, lower lips parting just enough to fit him, her hot walls gripping him tightly. He squeezes his eyes shut, hands moving to her hips to grip them tightly as he holds on for dear life while he adjusts to the feel of her wrapped around him.

Jesus _fuck_ , does she feel good.

He feels a bit like a virginal teenager, not the Birmingham gangster sex god he’s supposed to be; the thought of fucking her into oblivion had consumed his thoughts for the last several months, and now that he finally has her _here_ , the anticipation is almost too much.

The feeling of Isiah inside her, filling her up, is amplified by the heat of Michael’s gaze; she can feel his eyes on her, and it is overwhelmingly erotic. She wants him to know that she’s his good girl, and will do anything he asks — including fucking his friend and coming on his face.

Isiah pulls out slowly, only to push back in with agonizing patience, making sure that she can feel every inch, every ridge, every vein. He can feel her throbbing around him, her pussy begging his cock for _more._ Taking a page from Michael’s book, he continues his torture, drawing it out until she’s whining in frustration, attempting to push herself backward.

“Zay, _please_ ,” she repeats, and Michael wants to come just from hearing the desperation in her voice. 

Her plea sets something off inside Isiah too, for he finally gives her what she wants and begins to pump his hips, testing various rhythms until he finds one that has her moaning deliciously. He watches himself enter her, part of him in disbelief that he’s actually fucking her, seeing his cock covered in her juices. Michael is right — she _does_ have the world’s tightest pussy.

Michael’s voice pulls him out of his trance, the soft command directed at his partner: “Come on baby girl, show Isiah how good you can take him, yeah?”

Her head is turned to the side, cheek pressed against the soft material of the plush comforter on their bed, and Isiah watches her bite her lip and close her eyes, reveling in the sensation of him fucking her. She moans a resounding, “Harder, Zay,” which he responds to with enthusiasm.

Soon, he’s fucking her with wanton abandon, hips slapping loudly against the flesh of her ass, hands gripping her hips. She did as she was directed; Isiah is certainly impressed at how she takes him, accepting every inch of him even at his hardest thrusts. Michael has taken to stroking himself, the sound of her moans spurring on his arousal. 

He is running the show, though, and he wants to see his girl when she comes. Instructing her to ride Zay, he watches as the two adjust into the new position, making sure that she is facing Michael. Once she is settled atop his body, she sinks down onto Isiah’s length again, hardly resisting the urge to wait for further instruction.

The blissful expression on her face makes Michael’s cock twitch in his hand, and watching her begin to move, rolling her hips, forces him to slow the speed of his strokes for fear of coming too early. Her hands are planted firmly on Isiah’s chest, and Michael can’t help but stare at the place where her body meets Isiah’s, watching him disappear into her perfect little cunt. 

She’s moaning, and Isiah is grasping onto her thighs for dear life, the change in angle bringing an entirely new sensation altogether. He can’t keep his eyes off of her tits that are bouncing with each move of her body, and he brings his hands up to cup them, squeezing leisurely and reveling in the feel of their softness in his palms. She cries out when he pinches one nipple, then the other, and the sight of her throat as she throws her head back makes him squeeze his eyes shut.

“Fuck, Zay, you feel so… so good,” she breathes. Michael can _hear_ how fucking wet she is as she slides up and down Isiah’s cock, the sound audible even over the low beat of the music that’s long been forgotten. She knows Michael’s enjoying this, getting off on watching her bounce on another man’s dick, and it heightens her own arousal to a level that she’s never known before.

Her eyes meet Michael’s as she grinds down onto the length inside of her, and his scorching gaze sends a jolt straight to her core. She maintains the eye contact as her hand slips between her legs, circling her clit with the pad of her middle finger. Isiah, sensing that she’s approaching her peak, moves his hands to her ass to help guide her up and down, meeting her hips with his own thrusts. 

“So fucking hot,” Zay mumbles, eyes frantically moving across her body, wanting to capture all of it in his memory. 

The moans that spill out of her mouth are nothing short of pornographic, and Michael thinks to himself it’s the sexiest noise he’s ever heard. He adjusts his own strokes on his length to match that of Zay’s, feeling his own climax building in time with hers. 

“You gonna come for me, angel? You gonna come on Zay’s cock?” he probes, and he can practically _see_ the way she clenches around Isiah at his words, encouraged to obey what he wants.

All she can do is nod, focused on the fast circles she’s rubbing on her clit while she works her hips in a steady rhythm. Isiah’s fingers meet hers, then replace hers, applying a firm pressure before he begins to rub her with the same intensity.

Her cries grow louder as the pressure builds, and Zay slams into her one more time before she’s coming apart, the momentum ripping through her. She writhes above him as the force of her orgasm takes her breath away, and her walls contracting around his cock send Zay into overdrive, forcing his climax with a guttural groan. 

Eyes closed, she allows a few delicious aftershocks to pulse through her core before opening them to meet Isiah’s. He’s panting, a fine layer of sweat on his forehead, as glassy eyes look up at her, and she smiles when their eyes connect, giggling. Her eyes sweep over to Michael, whose chest is covered in a splatter of white, and she smirks at him, proud of herself for achieving her ultimate goal. She knows that he is pleased, proud of herself for making not one but _two_ men come tonight. 

Michael steps into the bathroom to clean himself up, returning with a cloth to clean her up, too. She slides off of Isiah, sighing softly as he slips out of her, and allows Michael to gently wipe the insides of her legs. He presses a kiss to her temple, gentle, and murmurs, “You did so good for me, angel.”

Isiah shifts off the bed, feeling like he should leave them alone for a moment together, stepping into the other room. He hums as he takes care of himself, meeting Michael’s eyes when he returns from the bathroom. 

“So…” his friend breaks the silence, jumping in head first to acknowledge the elephant in the room. _What now?_

“Same time next week?” Isiah jokes, making his friend smile with his cheek.

She bites her lip, covering her form with the dress shirt she shed what felt like hours ago. “Can we do that again?”

Michael pauses to stare at her, surprised, then allows a grin to break out on his face. Words can’t express how glad he is that she enjoyed his experiment, and better yet, is eager to try again.

Isiah, too, feels his heart soar at her question. He knows that he should feel a _lot_ more uncomfortable with the whole dynamic, and yet he doesn’t; not really. Somehow, despite the unusual circumstance, the whole thing feels somehow like a natural progression, and he is inclined to just follow his instincts.

He shares a glance with his mate, confirming through his eyes that ‘I’m good with it if you are,’ and Michael smiles before giving her ass a playful smack. 

“Just say the word, angel.”


End file.
